


the road not taken

by melissa13



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: AWAE Season 3 Spoilers, Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic Fluff, F/M, Future Fic, Just Married, Past Relationship(s), Post-Canon, Proud Husband Gilbert Blythe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 03:34:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21439543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melissa13/pseuds/melissa13
Summary: Years after the events of Season 3, a chance encounter in a bookstore brings Gilbert face-to-face with an old flame causing him to reflect on his new marriage. Features Anne and Gilbert being adorable newlyweds.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 339





	the road not taken

“Oh, I’m ever so nervous,” an elegantly dressed woman moaned, her astonishing auburn hair coiffured into a fetching knot at the back of her hair.

A handsome man with unruly dark curls was watching her amusedly, his hands in his pockets. “Really, darling? I couldn’t tell.”

Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, recently Blythe, shot her husband a dark look before resuming her pacing. “What if no one comes?” She continued her fretting as though he hadn’t interrupted. “What if I go to speak and I open my mouth and nothing comes out? Has anyone ever been booed off the stage at a book reading?”

Gilbert Blythe had seen his wife in many a heightened state before—happiness, anger, righteousness, and sadness—but he was sure he’d never seen her this nervous before. “Anne, no one is going to boo you off the stage,” he assured her, stopping her pacing by placing his hands on her shoulders. “If anything, you should be preparing for your encore.” 

Anne sighed softly, “That’s perfectly optimistic of you, but who’s going to encore little ol’ me?”

“Well,” said Gilbert playfully, taking up her hands in his. “I happen to know there’ll be a certain gentleman in the audience who’s scandalously in love with you.”

Anne laughed, catching on. “If that’s the case,” she said, “You best be sure to tell that gentleman that I am a happily married woman, but I thank him heartily for his enthusiasm.”

They exchanged enamored smiles, and Gilbert found his thumb unconsciously rubbing over the pearl ring that sat on her dainty finger. 

Anne’s smile wilted a little as she took in their surroundings. It was a charming bookshop right in the heart of Boston, with a little podium at the front and rows and rows of chairs lined up facing it. Any other time she would have been thrilled to be there, but there was just one thing spoiling the otherwise perfect day. 

“Oh Gil, I hope you’re not too disappointed we had to cancel our wedding trip for my book reading.”

“Disappointed?” Gilbert repeated, his brow furrowed. “Far from it! Anne, I love you more than anything. You know that we could be taking a trip all the way to the moon, and it wouldn’t matter so long as I was with you. This book is an amazing achievement, and I couldn’t possibly be prouder of you.”

Anne blushed prettily, complimenting her pale skin. “Dr. Blythe, please don’t say such things in public when I’m forbidden from showing you exactly how much I appreciate them.” 

“Apologies, Mrs. Blythe,” Gilbert said, his smirk belying his contrite words. “It won’t happen again, I swear.”

The distance between them had become scant, and Anne’s lips were tantalizingly close enough that if he just dipped his head a bit, he would be able to press his mouth to hers. Ever since their wedding, it had become almost impossible for Gilbert to keep his hands, and lips, off of his bride. It was especially difficult when one had an equally willing and eager bride such as he did. Said bride was looking at him with coy green eyes that conveyed she didn’t truly mind a break in propriety. 

He would have been happy to oblige her but there was a sudden clatter and ringing of a bell as the shopkeeper, a pleasantly plump woman in her late 50’s, hustled inside, shutting the door behind her. She gave a squeak of excitement as she spotted Anne and Gilbert, who parted reluctantly and with some embarrassment. 

Mrs. Winthrop seemed too distracted to notice. “Oh, Miss Cuthbert—Oh, my apologies! Mrs. Blythe! There is _ quite _ the crowd gathering outside for your reading. Shall I start letting them inside?” 

Anne swallowed, her hold on Gilbert’s hand tightening, but she managed a polite smile. “Yes, Mrs. Winthrop,” she said, “I suppose it’s almost time to begin.”

Anne turned away and looked up at Gilbert with renewed apprehension. He smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“You’ll be sensational, darling,” he told her confidently. “If you need any encouragement, just look for me. I’ll be right in the back, the whole time.” 

She took a deep, calming breath and nodded. Gilbert watched as she made her way to the front of the room, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles on her dress. He wanted to be up there with her, but this wasn’t his moment to be in the spotlight, it was hers: her very first book reading of her very first published book. He was just about bursting with pride.

He stepped off to the side as Mrs. Winthrop opened the front doors. Almost immediately, people started trickling in: children pulling parents along, young men and women of college age, and even a few older folks with a gleam of adventure in their eyes. The children clamored to the front of the room to get good seats, each clutching a copy of the new book in their hands, talking excitedly amongst themselves. 

Soon, all of the seats were filled, leaving many to stand along the sides. It was an incredible turn out, and a smile came over Gilbert's face as he spied Anne kneeling to talk to some children up near the podium, all signs of nervousness gone. She has a wonderful way with children, Gilbert thought to himself. Someday...

“Gilbert Blythe?”

Gilbert turned at the sound of his name to see a fair-haired woman, a little older than him, making her way through the crowd towards him. When she was finally in front of him, he was shocked to meet the brilliant blue eyes of Miss Winifred Rose of Charlottetown. 

“Winnie?” He asked, incredulously. 

She was the last person he ever expected to see in Boston, let alone that particular bookshop. It had been more than a few years since they’d last seen each other, and they hadn’t exactly parted on amicable terms. What did you say to the woman you’d once courted and almost proposed to?

“Ah ha, so it is you!” Winifred said triumphantly. She was just as statuesque and stylishly dressed as she was when they'd first met. Her eyes appraised him admiringly from top to bottom. “Gilbert Blythe, as I live and breathe! My, my, you’ve grown into quite the handsome man, haven’t you?”

Gilbert laughed, put at ease by her friendly demeanor. “And you’re even more lovelier than I remember,” he replied. “If I might ask, what are you doing in Boston?”

“Oh, I live here now,” said Winifred. She flashed her wedding ring flippantly. “My husband is heir to a shipping enterprise that calls Boston its home port. I’ve been here, why, it must be at least two years now, though we like to travel back and forth between Paris, depending on the season. But enough about me, dear Gilbert, I am very surprised to happen upon you in this bookshop. What brings you to Boston from far away P.E.I.? Are you here for the book reading?”

“You could say that,” Gilbert hedged with a smile. “The author is my wife.”

“Your wife?” Winifred echoed, in a tone that was somehow both surprised and pleased. “How extraordinary! I had not the slightest idea A.S. Cuthbert was a woman! But, who—?” She wondered, casting her eyes towards the front of the room. A small gasp escaped her as she beheld Anne, standing near the podium, speaking to Mrs. Winthrop now. “Is that—oh, but it is! Your Anne from Avonlea?” 

“A.S. Cuthbert—Anne Shirley Cuthbert. Anne Blythe, now,” Gilbert added, sure he would always get a certain thrill out of saying the words. He watched Anne smile at Mrs. Winthrop, her face lighting up, and felt his own smile grow. “Her publisher insisted that she use a _ nom de plume _ for a least her first couple of books, and Anne was so enchanted by the idea of having a _ nom de plume _ that she actually agreed to it. She started writing the book shortly after we got engaged, while I was away at medical school and she was teaching, so it’s been almost a three year process.”

“Her book has become quite popular here in the States,” Winifred informed him. “You must be very proud.”

“Proud is almost too insignificant a word,” he said absentmindedly, his gaze still focused across the room. 

After a moment’s silence, he realized how rude he was being and looked away from his wife to find Winifred studying him with an indulgent smile on her face. 

“Love looks good on you, Dr. Blythe,” Winifred observed. She chuckled to herself. “You know, back when you broke things off with me, I thought, well, he’ll be back in a couple weeks, but you never did come back.”

“Winifred, I’m so sorry,” Gilbert started to say, but Winifred cut him off.

“Oh dear, don’t apologize!” She laughed, patting his hand. “You didn’t wound me, only my ego perhaps. It was good of you to call the whole thing off before there were any commitments made. We wouldn’t have suited each other in the end. And besides, Anne was always your destiny. I see that now.”

Gilbert smiled, glad that there were no hard feelings between them. “I’m really happy I ran into you again, Winifred.”

“As am I, Gilbert,” she replied. Her blue eyes were wistful, yet sincere as she regarded him. “I wish you and your Anne all the happiness in the world. Now, the reading looks to be beginning, and I left my niece and nephew with their nanny, so let me rejoin them. I trust I can count on you to reintroduce me to your wife later in order to procure a few signed copies?” 

“Of course,” Gilbert readily agreed. 

Winifred nodded in farewell and wound her way through the crowd to find her seat. Gilbert shook his head, thinking back to those turbulent years of his youth when he was sure Anne would never care for him the way he did for her. Winnie had been beautiful, witty, and easy to be with, but there’d been one crucial flaw: she wasn’t Anne.

The thing about Anne was that she had challenged him like no one else in his entire like, and not just in regards to schoolwork; she had pushed and shaped him into becoming not only a better man, but a better human being. She was pure light and warmth, and Gilbert had always been turned to her like a plant to the sun. Their love had been hard fought and full of obstacles, mostly of their own making, but he wouldn’t change their story for anything. 

“Attention everyone, attention!” Mrs. Winthrop called at the front of the bookshop, jolting Gilbert back to the present. Everyone in the audience ceased their chatter, an air of anticipation among them. “It is my great pleasure to introduce you to the author of _ The Many Adventures of Cordelia Fitzgerald _, Miss A.S. Cuthbert!” 

Mrs. Winthrop started clapping and the rest of the crowd joined in, Gilbert included, as she motioned to Anne to come forward. Anne stepped up to the podium, and Gilbert could tell even from the back of the room that her nerves had returned in full force. Her wide eyes searched the audience until they found his at last. He mustered every ounce of love and assurance he could into his expression, giving her an encouraging nod that hopefully read, _ You can do this _.

She nodded back, taking a deep, steadying breath. Before his eyes, she transformed into the poised, confident woman he knew her to be.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Winthrop,” she said, a bright smile on her face as she surveyed the audience. “And thank you all for joining me here today. It makes my heart swell a hundred times over to see that Cordelia has struck a chord with so many people. She helped me get through a very rough time in my childhood, and for that, I’ll always be indebted to her. So, without further ado, _ The Many Adventures of Cordelia Fitzgerald _.”

Anne dove into the first chapter with the same charisma and gusto she always had when doing a recitation. The fact that it was her own writing she was reading was awe-inspiring to him. He, who had read and helped edit the book too many times to count, followed along mentally, focused entirely on Anne’s animated face as she spoke. The audience was equally enthralled, with Anne’s voice being the only sound in the room besides the turning of pages as they read along with her. 

As she finished the chapter with a flourish, the assembly burst into applause, and Gilbert whistled exuberantly through his fingers. True to his word, he called for an encore, and his cheer was soon taken up by the rest of the crowd. Up at the podium, Anne smiled, practically laughing with joy and relief, her sparkling eyes finding his again across the room. He winked at her, grinning widely as she returned the saucy gesture with a wink of her own. 

“Very well, very well, I’ll read the next chapter, if that will satisfy you all?” Anne asked playfully to raucous cries of approval. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she began the next chapter. They’d been married for two weeks, and sometimes he felt like he’d wake up and it’ll all have been a wonderful dream. Every morning he woke up with her in his arms he thanked his lucky stars that he had followed his heart all those years ago and not given up on Anne, even when he’d stupidly thought he had every reason to. He’d made a choice then, one that had felt hard at the time as a young man with so many expectations weighing on him. But watching his beautiful, passionate wife up there at the podium, fulfilling her dreams, he knew he would make the same choice over and over again, in any lifetime, in any universe. 

It was Anne; always had been and always would be.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for some weeks now, so I'm happy I'm finally posting it!! We've got two whirlwind episodes ahead of us, so I wanted to get this out before canon comes along and blows holes in it. Please let me know what you think! And come chat with me on tumblr at @annesurelyblythe :)


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